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Seeing all the Interview with the Vampire fans slowly waking up from season break hibernation is actively making my days better. I cannot WAIT for TVL to air to get more of my favorite evil vampire soap opera and finally have the content to get my hyperfixation fixated again.
I’m losing my mind @ Rohan Kishibe
I love him so much,,,
Like...
I would die for him 😌
This new Devil's Minion fic I've cooked up is either the best thing I've written in a hot second or 4,000 words of insane ramblings that could even rival Armand's inner dialogue...
Oh wait it IS Armand's inner dialogue, so I guess maybe its both.
Slain (Vampire Hunter!Helmut Zemo/Vampire!Reader) THE MASTERPOST
A/N: Welcome! This is gonna be the home base for all of the chapters of Slain on Tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can find the fic here. I can't wait to finally share this story with you <3 If you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or all of my Zemo fics, just let me know. My hope is to get one or two chapters out a month, but as of now, due to my current work schedule being variable, I don't have a set upload schedule in mind.
Synopsis: Sokovia is destroyed. Some say it fell to Tony Stark's bomb. Others say something much darker tore the country to shreds. Something supernatural. Something that had to be covered up by total destruction. Helmut Zemo doesn't care about the how, though, or the why; He cares about revenge, and he will stop at nothing to rid the world of those who live to harm it, even if that means going toe to toe with the ancient vampire who killed his father.
Tags: Vampire!AU, Enemies to Lovers to Friends, Angst, Vampire Hunter!Helmut Zemo, Morally Grey Characters, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut
Rating: E (+18) for later chapters
Current Word Count: 9,900~
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Chapter One: No Compasses, No Maps
Synopsis: The world undergoes change. Helmut Zemo finds new residence and perspective on his journey for revenge.
Rating: M
Word Count: 9,900~
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Chapter Two: Thirst
Coming Soon!
Put Me Back In It (I Would Do It Again) Chapter Seven: Giveth and Taketh Away
Pairings: Tav/Raphael, Tav/Raphael/Haarlep, Raphael/Haarlep, Past!Astarion/Tav
Word Count: 6,400~
Synopsis: After some time to think, Tav accepts what she's always wanted, deep down. Raphael and Haarlep are happy to oblige.
Rating: E (+18)
Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Temporary Character Death, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics
Tags: Threesome, Imprisonment, Emotional Manipulation, Making Love, Vaginal Sex, Unreliable Narrators, Memory Loss, Love Triangle (Maybe Even A Love Venn Diagram At This Point)
You can find this fic on AO3 Here or find the other finished chapters on Tumblr Here
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Tav had plenty of time to think before Raphael came to collect her.
She was grateful for it. There were quite a few things on her mind she needed to parse through before facing him again. It wouldn’t have done her any good to go into their inevitable discussion about the party and everything that had happened after without being fully prepared. Still, he could’ve come a bit sooner, if it had been up to her.
Seeing Haarlep helped the time go by. The incubus came down twice a day like clockwork to change out her food, begrudgingly clean the chamberpot with a quick prestidigitation, and treat her to some small talk. Tav appreciated the reserved, polite conversation that broke up the monotony of her imprisonment. Once things were back to normal, whatever that meant, she hoped the easy companionship they’d built could be repaired. Things were bound to be easier once the looming threat was dealt with.
The threat, though… that concept was difficult for Tav to wrap her head around as were the potential outcomes, even with all the time in the world to grapple with things.
In the night she’d press her ear against the cool stone of the cell wall, waiting to hear the crashing reverberations of combat. They never came. As the days passed Tav was almost disappointed when she was greeted by silence on the other side of the wall, but not because she wanted to escape or see her former friends again. No. She just wanted all of this to be over.
Thankfully, things wouldn’t last much longer. The party’s arrival couldn’t be far away now, given all the time that had passed. As long as Haarlep had passed her message along to the master he could clear everything up with her former party and things could go back to the way they were. The way they should be.
She could curl up in his stupidly soft bed with a bowl of fruit and one of the innumerable fluff novels he kept around for her before luring him into the sheets beside her, if only to feel the sensation of warm skin-on-skin again. How had she ever spent months sleeping on the ground in her threadbare bedroll? She’d only been in the cell for a few weeks and yet she couldn’t wait to be off of her straw-stuffed mat and back on a real down mattress.
When Raphael did come to her, she half expected him.
Haarlep was late with her bowl (she’d been upgraded from oat slop to stew as soon as they’d considered her capable of not purposefully choking herself on a carrot) and with every minute that passed she became more and more certain that the day was finally here. She waited with a somehow eager patience on the edge of her cot, letting the hours drift past without moving a finger.
Then she heard the footsteps pause in the hallway.
Tav gripped the thin fabric and pressed herself into the cot. He really had come. Any lingering doubts about her own devotion slipped from her mind.
Raphael opened the wooden cell door without knocking or announcing himself. His eyes glanced about the room until he found her waiting. She greeted him with a smile. He almost… winced.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Tav murmured, tone plain and unshaken, taking in every glorious inch of him. Her savior. His skin was still damp from a bath and his nails looked freshly manicured. Still, he looked as he ever did: infallible from head to toe. His eyes similarly raked over her, taking in her hunched features with a measured fascination.
Shame she hadn’t had the chance to freshen up before he saw her.
Raphael gave her his best stern look but somewhere beyond the storm, his eyes were soft. “I assume you’ve pulled yourself together now that you’ve had time to cool down, little mouse,” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the half-wet strands. There was something almost boyish in the stubborn man as he leaned against the door frame, filled with a natural charisma that both soothed her and set her teeth on edge. It reminded her of how he’d looked the night she first set her hands on the Orphic Hammer in Sharess’ Caress. He’d had the air of someone who knew they’d already won the game before his opponent even knew it began.
“No need for groveling and apologies, I’ve decided to forgive your transgressions out of the goodness of my heart. What do you say?”
“Thank you,” she replied, and she meant every crooked, breathy syllable.
The devil let out an unexpected laugh. “There. Was that so hard?”
She pasted that eager smile back on and shook her head. It hadn’t been hard at all. Why had she found it so hard before?
There was an easy familiarity between them that Tav took for granted before. They fell into their roles as easy as she breathed. It was different than it had ever been, though, strangely comfortable as she contorted to him and his whims without a hint of shame hiding in her chest. She wanted this. She wanted him. There was no reason to feel guilty for that! Not now that she knew the truth.
It had been her choice to stay at his side all along.
Neither of them mentioned how things ended between them the last time they’d spoken. Instead, Raphael glazed past it as if it were a one-off argument that hadn’t held any weight at all in the grand scheme of things. Knowing there was no more left to say about it… it was the sweetest relief she could’ve possibly imagined.
Tav pushed herself up from her cot, smoothing the innumerable wrinkles in her cotton nightgown as she stood on steady feet.
“If you’re ok with it, could I go back up to the house with you and take a bath? Please? Or maybe just get a change of clothes, if that’s too much?” It took no effort to pull her gaze away from him and focus on the lines between the stones of the floor. Her eyes followed their twisting paths. They ran anywhere but to him and the waiting expression on his face. “I know I’ve given you absolutely no reason to trust me, but I promise I just…” her voice broke, “I just want to feel clean.”
She could hear Raphael hum in consideration before letting her eyes dart up toward him just long enough to catch his pensive gaze. He looked troubled. Oh, how dare she cause him trouble!
“Never mind, I’m so sorry. I just-”
“I suppose I could allow it,”
Cool, blissful relief flooded Tav’s chest.
Raphael came a few paces closer as he spoke, sizing her up. “Only if I join you, though. For your safety, of course. We wouldn’t want a wandering bat to creep their way in and snatch you up while my back is turned, now would we?” His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he came toe to toe with her.
Tav’s heart thrummed. Her head spun. She batted wet eyes at the floor again, as innocent as the lamb but begging for his sweet slaughter.
“I missed you,” She whispered.
“Of course you did,” Raphael shook his head. “What would you do without me? I can’t exactly say the feeling is reciprocated. You can’t imagine how much work I’ve been able to complete without you there to distract me,”
An involuntary shudder slammed its way through Tav’s body. Somehow, though, she stayed sturdy through the chill. That sturdiness only threatened to disappear when Raphael’s arm shot out to steady her against his body.
She leaned into the warmth like a dog.
“I’m sorry. I can stay here if it’s better for you, as long as you visit sometimes. Or not, you don’t have to. I just want what you want. I want whatever is best for you,”
“Tav, I...” He laughed again, breathy and troubled, but she couldn’t focus on it, not when he had just said her name. It sat so beautifully in his voice. Nobody else could have said her name so tenderly if they’d tried. “Can I tell you something, just between the two of us?”
“Of course. Anything.”
The devil leaned in, placing his lips close to the sensitive shell of her ear. His breath was a gust of chimney-hot smoke on her skin. “I did miss you bothering me.” His thumb rubbed a small circle into her arm. “In fact, at least once an hour I look up from my work and find myself more than disappointed to not see you peeking into my office, trying to lure me to bed.” He pulled his face away from hers. His eyes were filled with fire.
“Oh,” Tav gulped.
“Oh?” Raphael tilted his head slightly. “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘Oh?’”
He was still laughing under his breath. How was he always laughing? She hoped so desperately he was laughing with her and not at her.
“How does it make you feel, Tav, knowing I missed you?”
She felt the urge to shudder again from somewhere deep in her stomach, but it was a warm shudder this time.
“Good,” She whispered.
He smiled his toothy smile. “Good.”
And without warning he was kissing her, pressing his tongue against her chapped, waiting lips, and she was letting him in, wrapping shaking hands around his broad shoulders to pull him as close as she could pretend was unintentional.
He was hot and sweet like summer fruit in her mouth. This kiss was different from anything they’d shared before. Kissing outside of sex was so new. Her touch starved body was so addicted to the sensation that she didn’t bother pulling away for air, even as her lungs burned. Tav could drown there in his lips and teeth and eyes until she died in his arms. When he pulled away, she whined like some poor deprived animal.
Oh, how he liked that noise! His eyes said it as clearly as his lips did.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he purred low, “I’m going to enjoy you until the only thing you think about when you see me is how grateful you are to be mine,” His last word was a growl. Guttural. Animal.
And Tav wanted.
She wanted like she was starving and drowning and burning and ailing and his touch was the sole sure to put a stop to it all. Only his lips on her temple could give her air. Only his hands wandering below her dress to squeeze her rear could save her from the flames. But he was flame too; roaring through her ears, singeing her skin, devouring her whole. She was destroyed in the crucible of his body but he remade her in his image, an idol to the best and worst of his heart. Her very existence was a devotion. Nothing remained of her but the gracious pieces of himself that he’d lent to her.
After everything that had led her here, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tav gripped Raphael’s back harder, leaving behind a collage of jagged, bloody crescent moons. Her breaths came in ragged pants.
“Take me home,”
The devil smiled and hoisted her up, letting her thighs wrap around his hips. “As my lady commands,”
She lavished his neck as he carried her effortlessly through their home, their palace, a house of stolen hopes and dreams. Dark bruises bloomed with each kiss. She could feel his pulse quicken and thunder beneath her lips. Raphael’s nails grew long, cutting into the fabric of her already ratty skirt as he walked, wings ripping through the back of his emerald tunic. He was losing control of himself with every taunting moment that passed.
Finally, she held an ounce of power in her shaking hands.
Despite that, though, his touch was still intentionally gentle. He held her firmly to him without gripping her fragile body too tight. How rare a treat, to be treated so gently while his lust raged on, proven by the growing hardness pressing against her barely clothed core.
She silently thanked him for forgetting underwear when he redressed her all those weeks ago.
Raphael took the stairs two at a time and it wasn’t long before they were once again bathed in the orange glow of Avernus. Its light washed over Tav like a baptism. Had she ever really appreciated the beauty hiding in the Hells? The swirling auroras of reds and yellows dancing in the endless burning skies? She let her lips pull away from the underside of Raphael’s stubbled chin just long enough to close her eyes and bare her face to that glorious, radiant light.
He met her movement with a growl, diving in to mark her waiting, exposed neck with some love bites of his own.
Electricity raced down her sternum and straight into her warming cunt the second he sucked hard against a prominent vein. She keened as his sharp incisors threatened to break the thin skin. She wanted to feel him rip into her, feel him below the surface, feel consumed and desired… he didn’t though. He just laved his tongue over the angry red scratches and pulled his mouth away again.
Around them, the house was quiet. Not a single anguished wail rang out. The only sounds were his heavy footsteps and the mingling of their heaving breaths. Tav brought her mouth back up to his jaw to fill the sudden quiet in her mind.
“The things you do to me,” he groaned the moment her lips met his skin again, squeezing her thigh. “You little succubus you. Spending too much time with Haarlep must’ve turned you into one of their kind, that’s the only explanation. You’ve bewitched me with your wicked wiles,”
Tav’s heart stopped with each compliment. She hung on his every word.
Since when had he been so doting? Taking care to hold her gently, passing out sweet nothings like candies… Had her confession spurred on this new side to his affections? He put a stop to her thoughts as he suddenly shifted the weight of her body to one arm. She opened her eyes to find them in the dining room.
Haarlep was stood near the table and dressed in green again. Their robes glittered as thousands of tiny golden runes reflected the candlelight. They looked beautiful despite the pinched, anxious look on their face.
“Really?” The incubus spoke quickly, curtly. “Now?”
Raphael just continued his walk until he was upon his prey, pulling them in for their own searing kiss. Haarlep sputtered weakly but leaned into the affection just as Tav did. They didn’t whimper when he pulled away, though. They were much too proud for that. Still, Tav knew that look in their eyes as their upright posture softened.
“Yes, now,” Raphael replied. “Join us?”
Haarlep didn’t need to be asked twice.
They moved together to the boudoir, Haarlep’s hands wandering to her hair as they kissed her back and shoulders. She continued her ministrations on Raphael too, using her free hand to unbutton his collar and gain access to fresh skin. The devil was only driven to get them into bed faster with every distracting kiss and touch. By the time they passed through the threshold, though, his patience was waning.
The moment they were safely within the walls of his bedroom Raphael was quick to toss Tav gently onto a cushioned bench beside the baths. When he stood over her with his wings flared he almost looked like a vengeful angel come to deliver her to salvation. How apt. He’d always been her savior, even when she couldn’t see it.
“Do you truly insist on bathing first?” He asked, chest heaving.
Tav took one look at the grime on her skin and gave a sheepish nod. How human of her.
In a second Haarlep was sliding up behind the devil, wrapping an arm around his broad chest. “Don’t worry master, I’ll take care of her. Go make yourself comfortable,”
“Fine, but make it quick. My patience won’t last long today,”
Raphael turned on his heel, quickly extricating himself from the incubus's arms and walking to the bed. He began to undo the buttons on his tunic as his eyes took in the greatest treasures he’d ever owned.
Then the game began.
“Well, hello,” Haarlep murmured as they knelt beside her. “Look who finally rejoined our little family,”
Their voice sounded slightly strained in it’s softness but Tav expected nothing less. Things were still difficult between them and their conversation about Haarlep’s love was still raw in both their minds. They had nothing but tenderness when they ran a hand down her face, though, or when they began to gently lift her dress over her head. She accepted the affection eagerly.
Raphael was nude by then. He settled himself on the bed, angling his body so that he could lounge and stroke himself while overlooking the pair.
It took a lot for Tav to divert her attention away from him long enough to shift out of the filthy cotton nightgown but somehow she managed, letting Haarlep discard the garment somewhere behind them. Nudity didn’t bring heat to her cheeks anymore. Not with the two of them, at least. Being bared down to their basest was so much less confusing than facing the carefully crafted facades each of the three wore, herself included. Once she helped Haarlep out of their robes they were all just skin and blood and bone. Made of all the same stuff.
They were equals.
She brought Haarlep’s waiting mouth in for a kiss before descending into the warm waters awaiting them.
It was sinful, the way the incubus’s hands caressed her skin with the bar of soap, tracing her breasts and the soft line of her stomach, hands creeping low beneath the water but never low enough. All the while Raphael was stroking himself lazily. Tav relished the gentle touch and leaned her back against Haarlep’s steady form. Their own erection was waiting for her, pressing against her thighs.
The second their skin touched Raphael hissed a sigh.
“Careful, Haarlep,”
Then it was Tav’s turn to sigh, because Haarlep was rutting up into her thighs, so close to her wanting heat.
“What was that Master? I couldn’t hear you. I was too focused on this delicious little thing,”
Raphael growled softly, but did nothing, hand falling away from his cock. It wasn’t needed when he could feel every slow, delicious thrust Haarlep made.
“Must you draw this out?” the devil asked.
“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask for what you want,” Haarlep taunted back.
Throughout everything Tav was silent, letting soft whimpers escape her open lips with each of Haarlep’s taunting touched. She was captivated by Raphael, and from the intensity of his gaze he was more than smitten with the sight of her. After the frequency they’d been together before the party it was shocking to suddenly go cold turkey from his touch. Now, though, Haarlep’s gentility was barely scratching the itch that grew under her skin.
She needed to be dominated, body and soul, and she needed it yesterday.
As if he could tell, Raphael was finally merciful.
“You’re both clean enough. Get up here now,”
“That didn’t sound like a question,” Haarlep teased, “but I suppose I’ll humor you this once,” And just like that, their bath was over.
Tav felt like a naiad as she rose out of the water, body lithe and entrancing as she fought the urge to bolt up the stairs to the bed. She walked slowly and Haarlep flanked her. Their hands roved over her wet skin, evaporating the water with the sheer heat of his infernal skin. Vapor rose around her. She supposed she must look like some sort of goddess emerging from the mist. Raphael was certainly looking at her as if she was.
He propped himself up on his elbows, waiting, expectant.
She paused.
Haarlep didn’t wait with her. They passed her without a thought, crawling into the big bed like they’d done thousands of times and settling in at Raphael’s side. It looked so inviting. It almost looked… safe. Still, she stood paralyzed.
Raphael held out a hand. “I refuse to start without you, darling. This is all about you, after all,”
Tav was stunned. For what felt like the thousandth time since she’d woken, Raphael shocked her.
He’d called her darling.
All at once, the life she’d never dared to dream was her reality. Gone were all traces of fear and shame. She was Raphael’s darling. She finally had a place to call her own, not for now but for forever. She was loved. She was known. There would be no more imprisonment, no more terror, no more waiting. She was a member of the family. She was home.
The last remnants of thoughts about her former friends dissipated the moment she crawled onto the bed, kneeling above Raphael as he and Haarlep took in her form greedily.
Those people she once knew were nothing.
This? This bed filled with two being waiting to adore her?
It was and always would be everything.
She met Raphael in a searing kiss, letting his hot tongue explore her eager mouth. His hands explored more than that, though. It was as if he were memorizing every curve of her nude body, every scar and blemish. Haarlep simply leaned on one arm and watched it all unfold with a slightly heartsick smile on their face. Usually Tav would’ve done more to make the poor incubus feel welcome, but she couldn’t think that far, not when Raphael’s cock was twitching so deliciously below her.
“I want you,” she whined, and he cooed at her as she hovered, waiting for permission that never came.
“What a sweet thing. Not today, though. Today, I want to try something new,”
The devil was unusually gentle as he wrapped clawed hands around her waist and maneuvered her down onto the bed. She blinked up at him, confused. Haarlep seemed confused too as Raphael came in for another kiss.
“You’ve been so very brave, Tav. How I wish I’d seen your loyalty sooner,” he whispered against her lips, pressing his own to hers almost… chastely. “Let us take care of you. Let us show you how valued you are,”
Was she dreaming?
She had to be dreaming.
Raphael’s hands did feel real. His weight above her was solid and sure, keeping her pressed to the bed as he kissed down her jaw, pawing at her breasts. Even his voice was right as it hummed more praise into her skin.
Her wildest dreams blossomed with every press of his lips to her waiting body.
If she hadn’t been dripping wet before, she definitely was now.
Haarlep’s hands joined Raphael’s, gently rolling her nipples between their lithe fingers, running feather-light nails down her abdomen. Tav could barely breathe through the intensity of it all. Where were the five-minute bursts of intense fucking? Where was Raphael’s usual impatience? It all melted away with her mind as Haarlep took a breast into their mouth. Raphael seemed to purr at the sound of her eager whines.
“It’s like your pretty little body was made just for us, isn’t it Haarlep?”
The incubus hummed a reply, sending a wave of warm breath against her sensitive bud.
Tav arched up her back to chase the sensation. She was caged in by bodies on all sides. It was searing hot flesh on flesh no matter where her body ran.
Raphael brought a clawed hand to his cock again while she writhed. There was no aloof joy there, though, no smarmy grin waiting to greet her as she looked into his eyes. He looked human despite the wings and horns. His smile was a gentle one.
“Tell me you want me,”
Her voice was a shuddered gasp, escaping her lungs and tripping over her loose tongue and lax lips.
“I’ve always wanted you. I need you. Don’t ever go away, I think I’d die without you,”
Truths, truths, truths.
Dirty little truths that wormed their way out over all those tortured years.
He parted her folds gently, taking great care to make sure his claws didn’t dig into the sensitive, wet flesh as he brushed her entrance with the leaking head of his cock. “I don’t want to wait for you any longer, Tav,”
And there was her name again!
The things he did to her, the ways he made her feel- up and down and up again. Raphael had been egocentric and predictable and even then she had loved him. Now, though… what could she do but fall ever deeper into the pit of pleasure and adoration before her?
“Take me?”
“As you wish,”
Raphael entered her in a slow smooth movement.
She welcomed him eagerly.
Through her still-parted folds she watched every inch of him disappear into her, distending her abdomen ever so slightly. He hissed as he bottomed out. Beside them, Haarlep shifted, taking up his usual position behind Raphael and stretching the man easily with a practiced hand and a bit of oil from the nightstand.
So this was making love.
The usual grunts and moans were there, yes. They would never go away. Somehow, though, the connection thrummed between the three as they began their undulating dance. Haarlep into Raphael and Raphael into Tav. She felt it in her chained soul. Every movement was deliberate. Hesitant, even. This was new territory for them all.
Haarlep’s eyes seemed almost weepy above the pair despite their nature.
They felt it too.
“Do you feel good, dearest,” Raphael murmured, bringing his face close to hers. There was restraint lacing every word as he paced his thrusts. Tav flushed hot.
He wanted it to be good for her. It was always good for her, Gods was it always good, but he wanted it to be good for her.
She pulled him closer wordlessly and kissed him like she was dying.
His lips curved upwards against hers.
Tav had thought domination was what she needed, something hard and fast to make her feel alive again. Who could have guessed the effect that the opposite would have on her body?
Each push of his cock into her cunt was molten. Every swipe of his thumb over her swollen clit was electric. The shape of his body was branded into her own flesh by pure heat alone. Had it always been like this? Maybe now that she finally had the ability to do more than just wail and drool as he pounded into her she could see so much worth appreciating. She brought a soft hand up to his cheek. Raphael stalled a bit, surprised.
“I love you,”
The devil yellow eyes found hers. He whispered his answer so softly into her skin that she barely made it out over the groans and breaths and slapping of skin.
“As do I, Tav,”
And then he continued on as if she hadn’t heard. As if his confession had been hidden in the bliss of their lovemaking, as it was to Haarlep. As if her whole world hadn’t imploded and burst out in a big bang of devotion the second the words left his lips
She kept that secret close to her aching heart as he filled her cunt to the brim, finally picking up his pace.
It wasn’t long from there. Haarlep was rutting rhythmically into their master and Raphael was chasing his own release just as fervently, but not without bringing her with him, finding that just right spot to slam as he kept rubbing steadily on her oversensitive nub.
She let herself surrender to him as white hot flame filled her.
Tav was on fire. Her lungs burned as she wailed, letting the reins on herself go as the flames raced up to consume her writhing body and soul. She could feel her very spirit lifting, spreading through the steamy air and drifting down in a shower of ash as her arched back fell and her breathing evened. Finally, she was a hero no more. She was an ember flickering ever so faintly in the pits of the Hells. She was a charred soul, wrapped in the cradle on Raphael’s arms as he heaved and settled onto the bed, letting Haarlep begin to clean them up.
Cleansed.
Pure.
She was tainted, yet pure.
The juxtaposition didn’t bother her. Chaos was comforting in a place like the House of Hope. She let the lasting warmth of their connection lull her into a comfortable sleep as she nestled closer to Raphael’s chest, breathing in time with his quiet, steady heartbeat.
———
When she woke, he was still there.
Thick, hazy clouds of steam floated throughout the room, cooling Tav’s skin as her eyes fluttered open to find Raphael’s chest waiting before her. He’d stayed. Her surprise was outweighed by a body-wide calm. It leaded her limbs, keeping her lazily wrapped around Raphael’s large, sleeping frame even as her mind began to wake. She smiled.
It wasn’t every day Tav got a chance to watch him with his guard down. His usually furrowed brow was slack, and drool pooled at the corner of his slightly parted lips, wetting a small spot on the pillow above Tav’s head. She wiped it away with the crook of her finger. He never looked half as peaceful when he was awake.
Carefully, trying not to wake him, she ran her fingertip along his lower lip.
His great wing twitched slightly, letting the silk blanket he had pulled over them fall below his hip and reveal his nude form. Tav breathed him in like a masterwork. Every plane of his body must have been sculpted by some great god of artistry from deep, brilliant agate. Still sweat-slick, he even glistened like a gemstone in the candlelight.
She pressed her lips to the salty skin of his shoulder.
If Tav closed her eyes again, she could almost ignore the blazing yellow sky outside the window and imagine them somewhere far away, some secluded winter cabin in the far northern lands where Raphael’s body heat would be the only thing keeping her from certain, frozen death in the wastes. He would keep her safe, though, and close. She had no doubt of that anymore.
The beginnings of a housewife fantasy had begun to weave themselves into the soft, delicate places in Tav’s heart, luring her closer to her lover's body.
He shifted in earnest now, his body waking with him. She welcomed him in warmly. Her breath was a warm cloud in the cool, smoky air.
“Good morning, Master Raphael,” She purred. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, placing another gentle kiss on his forehead. “Did you have pleasant dreams?”
The devil mumbled something intelligible, snuffling his face into her hair.
“No need to leave them for me. I’m happy right where I am.” She laughed. Tav breathed him in, the hand on his cheek bringing him closer as she relished in the musk on his skin, still tinged with soap and sex. Cherry and gun-smoke and… lemon? Tav paused, pulling her face away from his. Was that bergamot too?
Smoke sat heavy in the cool, clammy, choking air.
Raphael was still only half awake, but he groaned, stretching an arm up to the sky as he let his yellow eyes flit open.
After that, a lot of things happened at once, the first of which being that Tav realized she was not, in fact, in bed with Raphael.
Lemon had been the first giveaway. Raphael’s soap of choice was darker, something laced with patchouli and musk. Haarlep always preferred a cleaner scent. When Tav saw their eyes, with that distinct yellow glow so much sunnier than the devil’s own, it had only sealed the deal. She didn’t move to detach her body. Instead, she lay confused as Haarlep rolled onto their back.
As the incubus moved, though, they gave Tav an odd look, almost peaceful in it’s sorrow. She could hear their voice echo through her skull strangely while she watched his lips, unmoving.
“Thank you, Tavvy. Sorry about this,”
The very moment Haarlep leaned back, baring their body and chest to the room, the smoke around them seemed to thicken. At first glance, Tav had assumed it was just steam from the baths, but as it coalesced into a tighter, darker cloud she realized it was so much more. Haarlep hadn’t smelled of bergamot. This strange cloud had. Vapor swarmed to Haarlep’s chest in no more time than an eye-blink, and then from the chaos, a body appeared, as if it had been built by every wisp of dark that had been hanging in the room.
She knew that body.
In fact, she knew every sinewy curve and bend. She could have recognized his voice in a room of strangers or mapped the planes of his face with her eyes closed. It wasn’t as if his figure wasn’t burned behind her eyelids, doomed to haunt her nightmares, asleep and, seemingly, waking now as well. Things were different in person, though. More feral. More sinister. More… terrifying.
No.
No.
It couldn’t be.
He couldn’t be.
And yet there he was, flesh and blood, upon her only true friend and equal in the world. She’d been found. It was over.
Astarion.
Tav’s heart stopped beating correctly just about when Haarlep’s did, dark infernal blood spraying her face and body as the attacker turned his lean visage to her.
His red eyes softened as they took in her shaking form; the quiver in her lip and the wetness threatening to spill over her cheeks. He crooked his head to the side. “I’ve come for you, Tav,” The monster crooned gently. “It’s alright now. I’m here,”
She didn’t hear him, though, not with her focus trained on Haarlep’s shredded neck and the way their features began to melt into dark neutrality like chocolate on a summer's day. Their eyes, their true eyes, still lemony yellow but with strange, beautiful flashes of red and gold and cobalt blue, found her; soft, pleading- afraid. So afraid. She’d never seen Haarlep truly afraid in all her years at their side. Facing death alone, though, or functionally alone, seemed to be the breaking point. Their lips moved around a lead tongue, soundlessly whispering the only name that would have mattered, and, as the vampire dismounted from their broken body, she watched the last shaking breath escape their slack lips.
Tav mourned with a vengeful, horrid wail.
Confusion marked all of Astarion’s sharp features, his brow knitting together. He extended a hand to her that she quickly scrambled away from, leaving the bed altogether with nothing more than a thin silk sheet to protect herself. Her nudity before him didn’t scare her, only the vulnerability it brought, the access to all her softest, most vital places.
“Tav?” He whispered.
She did not dignify him with a response to her name. He had no right to know it. He had no right to know her.
“I’m going to kill you,” Her voice was a low growl. “I don’t know how, but I will. And I’m going to make you regret coming here,”
“What are you talking about?”
“Where is Raphael? What have you done with him?”
“Oh, come on! We meet after seven years, I come here to save you, and this is what you say to me?”
Baffled annoyance was growing in Astarion’s voice as he prowled closer.
Tav did not back down. Not from him. She was Raphael’s only defense now, his closest companion, and when he had poured her anew from the fires of his heart he had made her strong enough to withstand this, if only for him. Haarlep had too, in their way. It was thanks to the love they’d shared that she was able to stand strong on her own feet again after so long feeling scared and small. She growled like the deeply feral animal she was.
His guard dog. His last line of defense.
“Where. Is. Raphael.”
Thankfully, Astarion didn’t have time to answer before her question answered itself.
“Beautiful job, darling. I can take it from here,”
Her head snapped back to the shimmering entrance of the boudoir and there was Raphael, waltzing in at the bottom of the stairs with Shadowheart’s bruised form dragging behind him by the wrist. She was upright but battered, not that Tav cared. Tears finally fell as relief filled her chest. The chill in the room was replaced with that signature, flaming warmth that followed the infernals everywhere. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed it until it was gone.
Beside her, Astarion snarled. His eyes darted between Tav, Raphael, and Shadowheart, never pausing in one place too long as he took in his surroundings.
Tav didn’t risk moving. She was placed directly between the two rival men. If she tried to move back to Haarlep she’d have to move through Astarion, but if she chose to move towards Raphael she would have to turn her back on the vampire. It gave him too many opportunities.
“Welcome back to the House of Hope, Lord Ancunin. I can’t say I remember sending out an invitation, but I’ve been expecting you nonetheless,” Raphael spoke with his usual confident air. Shadowheart groaned, trailing behind. “I think you lost this on your way to find my pets.” He raised the cleric’s limp arm. “Care to take back your garbage?”
Shadowheart replied before her companion could. “We’re here for Tav,”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is! So if you’ll kindly let us do this the easy way-” Astarion took a few more steps towards Tav, but stopped, shocked, as she yanked away from his body.
This was her chance.
Stalled in his surprise, Astarion gave her just enough of a window to wrap the sheet closer around her body and make a run down the stairs, slamming into Raphael’s waiting chest.
The vampire paused. “Tav?”
The devil grinned.
“Checkmate, little vampire. Shall we move this to my office?”
--------
(A/N: And with that, we have gotten to the juicy bit! Thank you for your patience with my infrequent upload schedule, my boss is a bald asshole who saps any will to be creative out of me, but I'm so glad I can continue sharing my writing and ideas despite his existence. On that note, if any writers are looking for a mutual to throw ideas at and get ideas thrown at them in return, I'm your fool! Thank you again for reading, hugs and kisses. Sorry for putting you through the wringer there at the end. It's only a little more suffering and then the joy can start <3)
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Taglist: @the-pale-elfs-love
Put Me Back In It (I Would Do It Again) Chapter Eight: Either Way You Choose, You Cannot Win
Pairings: Past!Haarlep/Raphael, Raphael/Tav, Astarion/Tav
Word Count: 7,500~
Synopsis: Astarion has come to collect his long-lost love and Raphael is happy to oblige. As long as he gets what he desires in return, of course, and there are very few things he desires more than Tav.
Rating: M (+18)
Warnings: Temporary Character Death, Non-Con Drug Use, Stockholm Syndrome
Tags: Rescue Mission Gone Wrong, Deal With the Devil, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Memory Manipulation, Reunions, Love Triangle
You can find this fic on AO3 Here or find the other finished chapters on Tumblr Here
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Astarion’s eyes rarely left Tav’s neck as they all made their way toward Raphael’s office, each footfall a hollow, banging echo on the tile.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
But was that her footsteps or her pulse thundering in her ears?
His obsessive attention was something she’d expected. It was his nature, after all: Who would ask a predator to ignore his prey? And he’d tracked her all the way to the hells for a chance at his quarry. Still, beneath her steeled nerves and the veil of grief that weighed on her shaking shoulders, Tav was left deeply unsettled. She could feel the weight of him from his gaze alone. Red irises took stock of every scratch, bite, and pockmark on her skin in brief, fleeting glimpses over his shoulder that somehow pierced all the same.
Bruises, deep and purpled, served as a physical proof of Raphael’s passion for her. Astarion took those in too. He couldn’t hope to avoid it. The marks perfectly cradled the jagged pink scar that ripped a crater into the skin of Tav’s throat, serving as a beautiful frame for Astarion’s own marks.
Every one of his breaths sounded like a snarl.
The vampire spoke as they walked, voice clipped and biting as his teeth, but the sparse comments didn’t register within Tav’s mind. Nothing from the scene around her did. She drifted through the moment entirely disconnected from the world her body lived in. How else could she keep from collapsing under the weight of it all? If she was there— if she was walking down the hallway wrapped in nothing but a silk sheet with her past and future sniping at each other from either side— that meant Haarlep really was dead in the bedroom. The short hours of peace she’d stolen were long over, and so soon after her last misstep…
With every thud that rang through her ears, she tried and failed to understand what she’d done to deserve it.
All of her greatest problems had a common cause in Astarion. Even in her haze, that was an undeniable fact. She was haunted by him. Had it not been his brutality that drove her to Raphael’s door?
Without Astarion, Tav never would have needed to leave Baldur’s Gate. She would remember the warmth of sun on her skin, the kiss of a breeze coming off the coast, the laughter that only came in the company of friends. She could have done anything, been anyone…
Who was he to have taken that away from her?
Blame didn’t fall entirely on his shoulders, though. Misfortune followed Tav inherently, even before Astarion appeared in her life. She was a magnet for it. Only with Raphael’s benevolence and guidance had she been able to start to fight against her penchant for horrible luck, and she’d even ruined that with her stupidity somehow. If only she hadn’t let herself be caught off guard, maybe things would’ve gone differently.
Regret changed nothing.
Despite what she wished she could have done, Astarion’s chin was still stained with Haarlep’s blood.
———
It was her.
Adrenaline coursed through every cell of Astarion’s lithe body as he walked, keeping his pace brisk. He had to hold himself back from dissipating into mist once more if only to get to their destination sooner, so he tried to focus wholly on the feeling of his feet connecting with the ground. None of it worked, though. How could it be when she was right there behind him? After so many years, the impossible had been made real.
Tav had come back into his life.
She looked horrible, gaunt and bruised and bony, and she was so painfully confused about his presence, but she was there. Her flesh and blood was more than just a fantasy at the bottom of a glass of wine. Despite the bitter reek of misery on her skin, the thrum of her pitter-patter pulse still smelled the very same as it had on that very last night he’d seen her after the netherbrain fell. There were so many things he had missed, so many moments wasted waiting for her to come home when, surely, that was all she wished she could have done. That didn’t matter now. He wasn’t going anywhere without her by his side.
For the first time since she’d gone, Astarion felt like a hero again, even for just a moment.
The only roadblock between him and that happy ending (quite literally) was Raphael.
Even the thought of the devil set his teeth on edge.
Astarion could admit he had made a… small error by mistaking that incubus for their master. (Harvard, was it? Havaar? It wasn’t important. They were crowfeed now.) He wasn’t infallible. It had been an oversight to assume that Raphael wouldn’t see their little ambush coming, even with such short notice. In the handful of hours since Shadowheart had first appeared on his doorstep he hadn’t had time to create a plan that included much more than breaking down Raphael’s door with his bare hands and slaughtering everything between him and his former lover, including the devil himself. And, to be fair, the plan had worked well until he lost his temper. The sight of her in bed with him… the implication was so sickening he had forgotten to take Tav’s gentle feelings into account before scaring her out of her skin.
Point being, he shouldn’t have been so headstrong. If Shadowheart got hurt because of his poor planning he would regret it for quite a long while.
For Tav’s sake though… mistakes could be forgiven eventually.
Astarion put his mind to his steps again. “I suggest not making me any more infuriated than I already am,” he said. He could hear the sick smile in Raphael’s voice from behind him when he replied.
“Why, how could I be infuriating you, Lord Ancunin?” Raphael gave Shadowheart’s wrist a sharp tug, forcing her feet to shuffle roughly across the tiles in an attempt to keep balance. “Did I break into your home? Kill your mistress? Irreparably stain your favorite sheets? Oh but please, do go on about how infuriated you must be,”
The vampire didn’t care to keep up the banter. There was far too much to think about.
He shouldn’t have allowed Shadowheart to join him, for one. She was strong but out of practice. The years of peace out in the country with her parents may have given her a healthy disposition for once but they also made her weak. That was only proven by how easy it had been for Raphael to overpower her. He never should have trusted her with something as important as guarding the damned door. Look where that had gotten them.
It was her fault that she’d been captured. Astarion had nothing to do with that. He only wished he hadn’t trusted her to do more than she was capable of.
She kept looking at him, eyes hard, before looking behind to try to talk to Tav. With each glance their friend refused to return, she smelled more and more bitter, like some poultice of onion, herb, and plague sweat. Her terror permeated the air. It turned his stomach with the strength of it.
Tav overpowered that reaction with nothing more than a look, the same way she always overwhelmed Astarion’s usually organized and reasonable thoughts.
Her eyes, for the most part, followed the floor and stayed away from anything above ankle level. He was watching when they flickered up and found him, though, because they found him and nobody else. It served as a clear reminder of why all of this would be worth it in the end.
His feet paused outside of the study door. It sat open already. Waiting. The candlelight emanating from the inside was warm and inviting. He could smell spiced wine somewhere within too. It was still warm in its carafe.
Raphael reached the door himself a moment later. When he did, he let go of Shadowheart with enough force to send her stumbling into the vampire’s chest. Astarion caught her without having to think about it. “No need for formalities. We’ve gotten this far without them, so you might as well make yourself comfortable as we discuss all of this, and trust me—” Raphael flashed his white teeth in the cleric’s direction, “—I believe you will want to hear the whole story. It’s quite enthralling, I’ll tell you. I almost didn’t believe it when Tav told me herself.”
“You don’t get to speak for her.” Shadowheart snapped back. Her bangs were mussed, glued to her forehead in every direction and soaked with sweat, and the kohl at her eyes was smudged almost down to her cheeks. At least she still put up a fight. She wasn’t absolutely useless.
“Well, if you’d rather hear it from her I’m sure she’d be more than happy to share.”
Somehow Tav had managed to slip soundlessly from her position at the very back of the group to Raphael’s side without attracting much notice, tucked into the great curves of his sinewy form. She looked up at the winged beast like he held the sun and moon. It made Astarion want to snarl like an animal. “Let’s not waste time. Again, we have much to discuss,” And without so much as a second look in their direction, Raphael turned brusquely and continued on into the glow of the office.
Without him, Tav looked every bit as naked as she was below the sheet she was gripping to her body, shaking and alone.
Astarion wanted to comfort her too. Truly, he did. Not there, though. Not with so little time to think and not in front of Shadowheart’s raging, skeptical gaze. It had been far too long. His capacity for kindness was still there as it always had been, just… unused and unpracticed, the same way Shadowheart’s ruthlessness was. It would take time to relearn the amount of softness she had been accustomed to from him before his great change, but he would relearn it. That was the least he could do to repay her for how she’d always treated him. He just couldn’t be that man now.
Not yet.
Shadowheart tried. Now solid on her feet, she held out a pale hand. “Tav, are you—”
If he hadn’t seen the girl jerk away on her own, he would have thought Shadowheart slapped her.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”
She was gone in a blink.
Unable to take the cue, Shadowheart was quick to follow her into the darkness that waited. Astarion stood still, though, wrapped in the horrific realization that perhaps he wasn’t as in control as he needed to believe he was.
Because in her flight, it was suddenly so easy to tell that the horrific, burning, sour smell of terror was, in fact, emanating not from Shadowheart, but from Tav. His Tav. Well, at least she had been his, once upon a time, before she had disappeared into the night with a promise to return the moment she’d seen Karlach and Wyll off. Before leaving him alone to wonder how he had failed her so badly that she never even said goodbye. Before, apparently, she bolted into the arms of a man who wanted her dead.
Not that she hadn’t done it before.
Once upon a time, he’d been that man.
In a moment of unusual self-reflection, Astarion stood quietly in the doorway and reevaluated his whole eternal life, all the way back to his earliest mortal memories, to try to understand where he’d started to go wrong. All to try to figure out what he needed to do to fix it. Why in the world would he stoop so low? The same reason he came running down to the hells the moment he heard her name.
Because it was her.
———
The vampire stood in the doorway for a good long while, casting a great shadow over the room from the relative brightness of the hallway just as he’d towered over Tav’s life for so many years. He was stone still long enough that both Shadowheart and Tav herself were able to get settled into the room before he even seemed to breathe. Every bit of his existence set her on edge. Desperately, she tried to focus on anything but his presence.
The room was unusually neat. Books and bric-a-brac had been tidied or removed completely since Tav’s last visit, leaving the seats across from the desk empty, save for Shadowheart. Even the bookshelves seemed cleared of excess clutter. Every bound tome of magics and histories stood silently beside its matching editions. The only bit of unexpected excess was 3 glasses brimming with steaming wine. Like so many weeks before, though, Tav’s memories remained.
The palm-sized crystal was still laid out on the tidy desk. It sat slightly off-center, though, dwarfed by another stone that had been placed beside it in her absence. About as large as an ogre’s skull and probably three times as heavy, the new crystal shone from thousands of crystalline facets, so clear they could act as a mirror. Candlelight reflected from every lilac face.
Astarion still lurked silently in the doorway.
All at once, everything was very real.
Tav focused on the curve of Raphael’s hulking wings over his shoulders, the ghost of a heartbeat she could sense without even touching him, all the solid things she’d come to know in his home. It didn’t ground her. She breathed but the very air was smoke in her lungs but she couldn’t breathe in enough to cough it out. She couldn’t even close her eyes against it all. What good would that do, besides cementing the sight of Haarlep’s body in her mind? With every blink she was already there, reliving the moment their skin flushed dark and their pupils blew wide.
She gripped their still-bloody sheet tighter around her shaking body.
Did incubi have an afterlife? Did they have souls to be claimed or resurrected? Or did their shifting minds cease to exist the moment their hearts stopped beating, lost to time and the mercy of the Weave?
Did incubi worship any gods? Merciful ones?
Did they seek a gentle hand? Eternal solace?
Tav tried very hard not to think about it.
She was desperate to stop thinking about it. She wanted to think about how little she truly knew about her closest friend even less than she’d wanted to think about the look on Haarlep’s face when they’d died, looking into her eyes and wishing they’d been Raphael’s.
There was no comfort there, or anywhere, no matter how much she wished there was. She wished a lot of things that didn’t make any difference, like how she wished the crates and bolts of fabric still lined the back wall of the office where she stood. Maybe then she could have kept her modesty without smearing her body with Haarlep’s blood. Still, it felt good to have a wall at her back, tucked into the safety of the corner behind Raphael’s desk. He was a line of defense between her and the world. She was safe, even if she didn’t feel like it.
He loved her, after all. She couldn’t forget that now. Haarlep wouldn’t have wanted her to.
His voice was a comfort when he finally did speak from his chair. It was easy, confident. That eased the terror just enough to stay upright. “Pardon my lack of hospitality, Lord Ancunin. I assumed after you forced your way into my home you wouldn’t need an invitation to join me. Cazador never needed them. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, though,”
Astarion sucked a breath in his nose and released it through his gritted teeth like a dragon might spew warning smoke then… nodded and smiled, his face a contorted funhouse reflection of Raphael’s own.
The vampire took his seat.
His quiet unnerved her. He’d come so far, waited years and traversed planes, and risked more than just his own life in pursuit of her, and yet now that he sat plainly in front of her and Raphael, he had not one damn thing to say. And he was still staring! Watching her with eyes that never rested, flitting away but always coming right back to her.
Had he always been so fixated on her? So fascinated that he couldn’t manage to look away for too long, even when sitting before someone like Raphael at a time like this. Hells, he’d never even asked Shadowheart if she was ok! He just sat, head swiveling slightly as he seemed to breathe in the whole world, taking note of every speck of dust in every corner.
There was something morbidly fascinating about following his focus across the room: watching him watch her, like looking into the long glassy eyes of a walking corpse and wondering what was hiding there. What past lives had that body lived before stumbling into her path?
…Why her?
It always came back to the same question.
Tav nearly jumped out of her skin when Raphael broke the spell, voice booming through the little room. Had she been that transfixed? Shame chewed at her throat.
“Wine?” He asked, waving his hand at the glasses. Astarion turned his nose up at it before Raphael even had a chance to continue. “I hate to be a poor host, but I’m afraid you slaughtered most of the kitchen staff on your little rampage. This is all I have to offer,”
Shadowheart was quiet at first but rose politely to pick up the cup closest to her, resting the stem of the crystal in her lap. She did not drink. It didn’t take much longer for Tav to scramble forward and grab a glass of her own. The hot wine was down her throat in a heartbeat. Anything to wash the taste of bile and death from her tongue. The third glass remained untouched.
“So,” Raphael continued with a start, “I suppose I should ask exactly why you’ve come, even if you think you know, and don’t bother boring me any more than you already have. My patience is thin, and I’m sure Tav would like to retire soon as we bury our poor Haarlep,” He drew out words, lingering on every syllable of their name. To an outsider he might look as though he was languishing, dying for someone to burst with anger and spice things up. It was a lie to say he was bored, though. Tav knew him well enough to recognize the eager glint of his eyes in the dim light. The way he sat in his chair— legs parted, shoulders hunched, elbows pressed to the wood while his fingers entwined in a facsimile of prayer— and leaned into the word like he was hungry for it told her everything she needed to know.
He was more excited than he’d been in a long time.
Shadowheart’s face steeled. Astarion didn’t take the bait, though. He leaned back into the plush backing of his chair, legs tucked one over the other. His soft, pink tongue darted from between his teeth. He licked the blood smeared across his lips away as if it were the juice of some overripe fruit.
Tav had to forcibly peel her eyes away and move them back to Raphael.
It was instinct; a matter of self-preservation. The vampire had been nothing more the vapor when he first attacked her, nothing more than a cloud of mist in the corner of her eye. If she allowed him out of her sights again who knew what could’ve happened? How could she ensure he hadn’t become a misty specter again, slipping between her skin and the wall at her back? Fascination had nothing to do with it.
The cleric cleared her throat, looking to her companion and back over towards Raphael.
“We’ve come to bring Tav home,”
Raphael snorted. “Tav is home,”
“I thought you were going to let us hear that from her?” Shadowheart leaned forward in her seat. “She should be more than happy to share, remember?”
“Of course. Tav?”
Oh.
She bit down on her already sore tongue hard enough to taste blood. Was this a test?
“Go on,” Raphael said, looking back to her with a nod.
Not a test, then.
Tav wasn’t focusing on her keeper, though, no matter how her mind screamed for his approval as she prepared to speak. No, she was still fixated on the man staring daggers into her. She squared her shoulders, took a step away from the wall, and set her empty glass down on the desk. “I am more than happy here at home with Raphael. Neither of you should be here right now. I need you both to leave, now.”
Astarion didn’t flinch. He didn’t speak either. He just searched her like she was some sort of puzzle to be solved.
With his face blank, and his hawkish eyes glistening just so in the candlelight, Tav knew exactly how she could have fallen for him. That was a lifetime ago, though, and she was a different person. She wasn’t so gullible anymore. Raphael was all she needed now. When she said she was home, she meant it.
Unfortunately, Shadowheart was also searching her face, trying desperately to find some sort of lie behind her words.
“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe, but the last time we were all here you almost killed him,”
“Things change.” Tav looked to the devil. “Again, you need to leave now. You’ve done enough damage already,”
Raphael put a hand up. It quieted her without him needing to say a word. “Now don’t be rude, darling. Your guests came a long way to visit. The least we can do is entertain them for a while before sending them on their way.” Still grinning, he patted her gently on the arm, addressing their guests. “Especially since they won’t be returning for a long, long time,”
Shadowheart brought her glass up to her lips and took a short sip. Her teeth were gritted so hard that Tav could almost hear them grinding in her mouth. Once the swallow went down, though, she seemed strangely calm. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
The smallest bit of Tav’s heart regretted being so harsh. Her old friend seemed so… worried. She had to remind herself that it didn’t matter. If she cared, she wouldn’t have brought Astarion with her. She would have known how bad things had been, even from outside of the city. She should have known. They all should have known…
“You don’t look good,” Shadowheart continued, softly. “We came because Wyll and Karlach passed along the message you were here. They said something was very wrong, that you were down here against your will. After everything Raphael put us through, I couldn’t imagine they’d be wrong and now that I see you I can’t disagree. Even if you say you’re fine, I’m having a very hard time believing that you’re really ok,”
Flickers of light danced across the room, bathing everything in a sedated warmth. Someone must have burned the candles unto low stumps while tidying up. Probably Haarlep. Tav held in a gasping, dry sob. “I’d probably be doing better if you hadn’t killed my friend,”
“Please believe me when I say I didn’t have any part in that,” Somehow the withering look Shadowheart shot Astarion seemed to lift a strange weight off of Tav’s chest she didn’t even know was there. Did she… hate him too?
Could she really not know?
“I don’t—” Tav’s words caught in her throat. Her mouth felt numb. Every sparkling glint coming off the big crystal before her made her eyes water. “— why didn’t you come sooner? Why did it have to be like this?”
The cleric reached out towards the desk, as if to touch her hand, but held herself back. Tav was grateful for that. She was already toeing the line of disrespect. It was one thing to fantasize about what life could have been if someone had been kind enough to save her from Astarion, so she wouldn’t have had to take matters into her own hands. They hadn’t, though. Raphael had.
Fantasizing about being saved from her savior was nothing short of perverted. She’d been left to rot before Raphael took her in and fixed her mistakes for her. All of her troubles had gone away until she’d started sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. And he loved her. How ungrateful could she be?
After everything, the least she could do was treat her keeper with the reverence he deserved. Besides, she loved him too. Even if she didn’t feel it so strongly now, that was just because she was mourning and too afraid to feel much of anything else. Once all of this was over she was sure that there wasn’t anywhere else in all the nine realms she would rather be.
Despite her certainty, Tav still had to hold one of her hands with the other to keep from reaching out across the desk. It was almost enough to make her forget Astarion’s looming presence.
Only almost, though.
Shadowheart shook her head, retracting her hand. “No one knew where you were after the brain fell. Believe me, we searched, but every lead turned up nothing. If I’d known, if any of us had known, we would have been down here the moment we found out.” Quietly, she added, “You know that, don’t you?”
Tav nodded without meaning to. Her body was weak and fluid. She was just so tired. “I just don’t understand how all of you just believed him after everything he’d done.”
For the first time since they’d started speaking, Shadowheart looked confused, swiping a strand of hair away from her forehead as her brow furrowed gently. “Who, Wyll? He was just trying to look out for you Tav, I mean look at you,”
“No, him.”
Shadowheart’s voice raised in pitch. She nearly stood from her chair. “What do you—”
Tav’s finger could have been a spear with the way she wielded it, a stake pointing straight to Astarion’s unbeating heart.
Raphael adjusted himself in his chair. “Now that we’ve gotten to the heart of the matter, I believe negotiations can begin,”
She could feel her heartbeat running from that finger all the way down her arm and racing through her body: pounding in her ears, banging in her chest. It was a war drum, an unending declaration of her hatred for Astarion and all that he stood for, but at the end of her attack, the vampire still remained composed. He spoke directly to Raphael as if Tav weren’t even there.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to enthrall her, but we will find out, and once we do there won’t be one thing in all the realms that can stop me from ripping your throat out, the same way I did to your whore,”
“Don’t you dare speak!” Tav shouted, “Not to me, and not about them! You don’t get to do that!”
And just like that, the dam broke.
“Six years! Six years I’ve held my tongue, more than that if I count however long you tormented me before I was on death's door, knowing the only chance I had at living was to run here. All that time I stayed quiet to try to stay away from you. I have lived through every possible state of agony and endured more pain that I knew was endurable, and now you waltz in here and act as though you have no idea what I’ve gone through? No. You don’t get to do this to me. How dare you? How dare you!”
Questions engulfed her spinning mind like a wildfire. So many questions. The fragile fabric of her life in Avernus had been woven from them, but now she pulled the threads, one by one by one, and sent them flying towards the pale elf as if he would give her some bit of truth that would answer them all.
From the outside, she thought, it must have looked pathetic. That didn’t matter, though. She didn’t notice. Her mind was nothing more than a white-hot haze of hatred and pain. The words seemed to flow from a place she couldn’t even identify within herself, some great hidden heaviness in her heart. It tore her in two.
“You had the sense to leave me alone for this long, why come to ruin my life again now? Why hunt me down? What obsession do you have with causing me pain that keeps you from letting me be happy for even one moment before hurting me again?” Tav picked up her wine glass and swiftly threw it at Astarion’s head, but with her distracted aim it ended up shattering at his feet, littering the rug with thousands of minuscule shards of glass. “You killed Haarlep! You ruined the one good thing I had besides Raphael! And for what? What do you gain from this? What have I done to deserve this? Why me? Why?”
Raphael flexed his wings, letting them loom over his form. “That’s enough, Darling,”
And without a second thought, Tav obeyed again and went quiet. Broken from her fugue, she used the last of her mustered rage to wipe the burning wetness from her cheeks with the back of her free hand. When had she started crying? She couldn’t say. Her other hand stayed buried deeply in the bloodstained sheet covering her chest. It still smelled like Haarlep’s soap.
To Tav’s shameful relief, Astarion wasn’t looking at her for the first time all evening. Instead, he stared straight ahead. Scraps of fabric and loose wool littered the ground and joined the glass, having fallen from ten deep gashes shredded through the armrests of his chair.
Shadowheart’s face was a greenish pale. Her eyes glowed dark and harrowed as she stared down at the pile of refuse on the floor. “Astarion, what is she talking about?”
He had the gall to act surprised.
“You can’t be serious?”
Her voice dropped low and clear as a death knell. “Astarion, tell me right now. What have you done?”
The tiniest hairline fracture began creeping its way through a small facet of Tav’s red gem, entirely unseen.
“Do you genuinely believe I would hurt Tav, of all people?”
“I guess I don’t know anymore,”
“It’s nice to know you think of me so lowly, Shadowheart,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ll remember that next time you show up on my doorstep,”
Tav’s stomach was roiling. A slow throb began to overtake her vision, darkening the edges of her world. Was the room spinning? Had Astarion done something to her?
And when had he stopped wearing high collars? Astarion had always been so secretive about the scars on his neck. It was strange to see him wear a flowing, open shirt like the maroon one he had on.
Tav only noticed the world falling out from under her when her cheek was already against the carpet. When she did, the only thing she could feel was a deep gratitude that she still had the capacity to see and think.
She was getting quite tired of fainting.
———
Raphael paid little attention to Tav’s body as she went to the ground save for a quick glance to make sure she hadn’t snapped her neck or done any unlikely permanent damage. Once he was satisfied by her choppy breathing, he sat back in his chair. His sheer infernal height ensured that he towered over his guests even when he was seated. “Finally. Apologies for the delay. Now that that’s taken care of, let’s talk deals,”
“What have you done to her?” Shadowheart was out of her seat the moment Tav hit the floor but joined her just as quickly. Her hands flew to her throat, lips trembling from the effort of moving them. “What did you do?”
Not a trace of concern or sympathy crossed Raphael’s face. He only addressed the man across from him while answering. “The paralytic won’t do permanent damage, I assure you. Shadowheart barely consumed enough to keep her down for more than a few minutes. I only needed to ensure we had time to talk just the two of us.” Clawed fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm. “I knew you’d be far too clever to drink the wine,”
“I’m not clever, it just smelled foul.”
“All the same to me. As long as it got us here, I can’t complain,”
Astarion watched the two bodies on the floor with a practiced disconnection. There was nothing he could do for them now. Nothing, of course, except launch himself at Raphael and hope his unplanned attack was enough to overpower him. He was only a man after all, in the same way Astarion was still a man despite all he had taken and gained in his ascension. No one was infallible. The fight would be mostly fair if he ignored that they were doing it on enemy territory.
Still, he had always been better with his tongue than with his hands…
“Fine,” Astarion said. “We’ll play your little game. First, though, I do need to know the terms. Is she still… in there,” His voice went uncharacteristically quiet without him intending it to.
“She’s still with us.” Raphael looked back at Tav as if she were a prized hunting hound curled up in the corner and not a collapsed woman, sheet now barely covering her twitching, seizing form. “The paralytic isn’t a sedative. She should still hear and see everything, even if she can’t comment on it.”
The vampire shook his head. “Is her mind sound?”
“As sound as it ever was.”
“Don’t lie to me. Whatever that was, it wasn’t Tav.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
Astarion was sure. He was as sure as he had ever been about anything, because in no universe would he ever hurt Tav. Lie? Yes, once upon a time. Cheat? Only when she’d been too good at cards. Never harm though. He was better than that, better than men like Raphael and Cazador. No planted memories could change that fact.
Still, the confidence in Raphael’s voice unsettled him. He talked with a smugness Astarion knew well, an ‘I-know-something-you-don’t’ taunt in every syllable in every word, but Astarion knew just as well how things like that could be faked. That wouldn’t stop him from doing what was right.
“I’m taking her back,”
Raphael steepled his fingers. “What makes her yours to take, Lord Ancunin?”
“The same thing that makes you think you have the right to keep her here.”
“Is that so? Because I have a contract that states the contrary,”
Astarion laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Tav? Sign a contract with Raphael? After all they’d done to get her out of the last one? It wasn’t fathomable, even when he produced a folded square of parchment from the top drawer of his desk. Laughing was the only reasonable response, especially when looking at the shimmering lip print that sealed the damn thing. “You want me to believe you had her sign the contract with a kiss? You’re an idiot, Raphael, but I thought you were smarter than this,”
“Believe what you like,” Raphael said. “Tav’s soul is mine. If you want it you’ll have to give me something equally valuable. Given how precious she’s become to me, though, I’m afraid the cost will be quite high. Add on Haarlep’s life and you’ve only dug the hole deeper. Now what in the world could I possibly want more than them?”
“Let me guess: The Crown-of-fucking-Karsus,”
Raphael’s catlike grin was enough of an answer in and of itself, but he had to courtesy to reply. “Approximately.”
Astarion couldn’t stop laughing now. It wasn’t a humorous laugh, more a hysterical giggling. “That's it? You’re still on about that fucking crown?”
“And the unlimited use of your thralls, should I call upon you to lend them to me,”
“Well… that’s that then. Shall I send it by messenger or do you want it hand-delivered?”
Giving Raphael the Crown of Karsus was a terrible idea. Astarion knew that. A lifetime ago he’d stained these very halls with blood to avoid letting it fall into the hands of an Archdevil. With an unlimited power like that, what horrors could he be capable of? And besides, the crown had gone with Mystra. How the hell was he supposed to pry it from her clammy little hands? That was a small task, though, given all Tav had done for him. He would move heaven and earth to see her smile even one more time the way she used to. It didn’t matter if she stayed at his side. He knew how much he’d needed to run once he wasn’t shackled. Could he blame her for doing the same?
She looked so broken on that carpet, heaving for breath. Her skin shined with sweat. Had this been how she felt when she helped him slay Cazador? Watching him crumpled and controlled as she threw herself at the impossible, all to spare him more pain at his former master’s hand?
All of it made him sick with anger. He wasn’t supposed to be weak anymore. He was supposed to wield the kind of power and control that could bend anyone to his knee. Raphael’s pathetic dramatics should be nothing to him. Emotions should be nothing but an afterthought.
So why, with victory so close at hand, did he still feel so… unsure?
The two men sat across from each other; a strange funhouse mirror reflection. Raphael’s form seemed to shift and change by the minute, monster and man combined fluidly into one being who seemingly did nothing but gloat and grin. He was solidly human when he pulled a new roll of parchment from his desk, though, and pushed it across the table to Astarion with an already wet quill. “Tav will go back to Baldur’s Gate with you now. She will stay within the walls of your home with you—to make sure I can find her if you fail—for one year as you retrieve the Crown of Karsus. Don’t bother delivering it. I’ll be there to collect when the time comes.”
“Is that it then?” Astarion asked, still seated. “I take Tav back and get the crown within a year and all of this is done,”
“You’re a smart man to take the deal, Lord Ancunin. As long as I get what I want I have no reason to break my word,”
On the floor, Shadowheart began to stir. Her eyes flitted open and her mouth trembled, grunts of vitriol beginning to slip through her still-slack lips.
“All you need to do is sign,”
Astarion knew he needed to read over the terms first. It was too convenient. There needed to be a catch somewhere for Raphael to ever give up even an inch of power. Just handing Tav over would be too easy. In all truth, though, he didn’t care, because there she was, finally lifting her head off of the floor, eyes still reaching for him. It would have taken more strength than any one man would ever muster for Astarion not to sign right then and there. She was his weakness and always had been. Who was he to try to resist after coming so far?
The moment his signature was inked into the parchment it disappeared in a flurry of small sparks.
Raphael rose, rounding his desk, but not before gathering up the large crystal from his desk into his hands. Behind him, Tav began to whimper. “It is done! Feel free to use the portal room on your way out, it should be much more convenient than dragging her kicking and screaming all the way back to your shabby little circle down the hall.” He paused, then added, “And I suppose I should mention what breaking Tav’s contract entails,”
“Why does it matter,” Astarion stood. Broken glass crunched under his toes. “We’re leaving,”
“Well, I will be taking your soul back with me once you get the crown. I just thought you should know,”
The vampire froze. His empty heart stopped.
“What?”
“Didn’t you wonder why Tav would ever come to me for help and not any of her nearest and dearest? Did you ever consider that it was because they were too weak to do what needed to be done?” Raphael held the great crystal up to the light. Inside it, Astarion could see his face reflected a thousand times, but it couldn’t be his face. It wouldn’t be. He would never do that. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t… “Well, I know exactly why you didn’t wonder. The same reason you didn’t smell the poison in the wine. Incubus blood, Lord Ancunin, has many wondrous uses, most of all in love potions. It has a certain effect on those who consume it, even nonhumans like them. You begin to think of nothing but your beloved. You fixate on them like the world revolves around their axis. I would’ve thought you’d know something like that, but of course not. You were strong enough to just force Tav to do what you pleased, no potions necessary. Well, besides the healing kind to keep her from croaking,”
Astarion lunged at Raphael, but stumbled away at the last minute, fingers carving five deep canyons in the wood of the desk. His patience had run down. How had he fallen for something so simple?
Oh Gods, what had he done?
There was no time left to pray.
“Six years ago, Tav traded away her life for yours and I wiped your sweet little mind clean of all those pesky memories to keep you sane, for her sake, when Haarlep returned your soul. Hers… well I kept those indulgently, I admit. Either way, when you bring me the Crown of Karsus, her deal will be null, and your soul will return to my Father’s vaults where you’d first traded it for your ascension. If you fail, though… well, Tav will be returning with me,”
Raphael had planned for this. Of course he had.
Shadowheart was moving in earnest now. She’d made it up onto her knees, crawling to Tav where she was gurgling, face soaked with tears. The cleric covered her body before squeezing it to her own.
“Now,” the devil came in close, “I think I should give these back now.” He dropped the crystal. It exploded into hundreds of thousands of tiny shards, mixing with the glass and wood on the carpet, covering Astarion’s rigid body in flickers of amethyst and candlelight.
Astarion’s mind broke with it.
Who was the two-faced monster, truly? How different was he from Raphael?
Apparently, there wasn’t much difference between the pair. Their cruelty was of a caliber all their own, shared once by men like Gortash and Cazador Szarr.
Maybe, based on the memories that flooded back in crashing, foamy waves of blood behind his eyes, he was in a class all his own.
Raphael was still smiling, wrapping an arm around Astarion’s body while he leaned in close. “I look forward to our fruitful partnership, Lord Ancunin. I truly do,” he whispered. “As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll wait to return Tav’s memories until the year is up. It will break her to see all that horror again, and I’d hate to see her suffer like that until you’re ready to break her again yourself.”
The pale elf had just enough time to register the smaller stone on Raphael’s desk before he pulled away. His clawed hands kept a firm grip on Astarion’s shoulders even when he tried to lunge away for it.
“Goodbye Astarion. I cannot wait to see you again. Exterminare.”
There was no time to fight. The moment the word was muttered, Astarion could feel himself being pulled from the room, the fabric of the world bending around him. It could have been nothing more than the hole in his chest opening up to eat him. He hoped it was. Anything that meant he didn’t have to accept the truth as true. His own mind had to be wrong, his own memory had to be a farce. It wasn’t, though. The real farce was the lie he’d fed himself that he could be better than the monster he was born to be.
When the banishment spell finally spit him out he lay strewn out on the great, empty hall of the castle he had tried to make a home. Shadowheart and Tav were already there too, bodies twisted and limp like two discarded rag dolls. They breathed, though. Their hearts kept steady beats. At least he hadn’t fucked that up too.
In the silence of his own personal hell, Astarion wailed at the vaulted ceiling above, weeping at the mural of the heavens above.
Gods, oh Gods, what had he done?
-------
(A/N: So this only took me three months to finish! I must be breaking some sort of record over here!!! Jokes aside, thank you for holding on. When the idea of this fic was brand new, this was actually where it was intended to begin. I thought including the lead-up was important to add and look where it's brought us about 40,000 words later! Again, in all seriousness, I am so glad I've taken on and continued this project. Please know that even if it takes me an eternity to upload (it's hard to write sometimes when the whole world is on fire and I am steeped in constant misery) I will not abandon this project until it is 100% complete. Thank you all again. I can't wait to hear what you've thought of my madness. Can you believe most of the time I spent on this wasn't the writing itself? I just needed to get every aspect perfect to set up everything to come, and brainstorming that made actually putting the correct words on paper seem impossible for a while. I apologize for all of the suffering on this hurt comfort train with the promise that it will only make the comfort more worth it. I love you all, hugs and kisses, take care of yourselves <3 See you when I manage to master what comes next)
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I apologize, but effective immediately this is about to become a devil's minion blog. I have been gripped by the old men. I cannot be shaken free.
Ah the age-old writer's dilemma!
Is my writing good enough for people to understand the nuance of an unreliable narrator during trauma, or will they just think I was absolutely throwing the character's past thoughts out into the garbage!
